romancing the cheese

I think Susan's convinced that I am a flirt. A flirt! Me! I think she mistakes my honest, winsome, cherry, wouldn't-mind-if-you-come-hither smile for flirting. Most of the men with whom we interacted today were married anyhow. Cute, especially the eager fellow at the chicken raising lecture we attended, but married. Now give me a single guy and maybe, maybe, I might turn on a beguiling smile, but that's my limits. :D

Alas, the International Cheese Curling Contest was canceled due to rain. By the time we arrived, the cheese eating contest had finished as well (despite being advertised to last all afternoon and evening) and there was no inflatable cheese maze either. Illinoisans are weak, as it was only mild drizzle. Bah. We did look at the typical tents and booths that seem to follow these fairs/festivals ("homemade" flower wreaths and various trinkets and the lemonade/hotdog stands). There was free cheese and bread samples at one of the stores (imported from Michigan) and I ended up with a delectable dill Havarti to bring home. Yummy.

We went on a carriage ride, driven by one of the local Amish. Our driver was our age and super adorable. It was fun flirting (okay, I'll plead guilty about him) with him. He hinted that he would like to get away, go to the west... I almost took him up on it, but Suz was convinced that he was probably married with three or four kids. Such is my luck, she was probably right. Drat.

We had a picnic (or "micnic" as Alice likes to call it) under the tents of the deserted cheese-eating contest of fried chicken, potato salad, brownies, peach angel food cake and cookies - rule number for a potluck: everybody thinks to bring the dessert. The little kids ran around in the rain, jumping in puddles. All in all, despite not getting to sweep a broom in front of a stone of cheese, it was a pretty fantastic day.

From Arthur Cheese Festival